Thanksgiving for what? An apology!

When I lived in Africa, Thanksgiving smelled different, and it certainly sounded different.  No familiar laughter in the kitchen as my sisters and I and our kids shopped and cooked and baked and tried to find enough dishes and plates and serving spoons and forks for it all.  No fragrance of roasting turkey and fragrant dressing and oh, the aroma of rich gravy and cheesy broccoli and yesterday’s baking hanging in the air. No cousins and siblings and aunts and uncles squeezing into their places, places that used to be big enough, around the table.

Oh, in Chad we usually had chicken and rice and squash pie and if someone had saved a can of cranberry sauce from their barrels and maybe a jello salad of some kind, again from the barrels.  And instead of family, maybe other missionaries, or Chadians we had grown to love around our table, but it wasn’t quite the same.

And Thanksgiving wasn’t the only day we gave thanks, we did that every day - why, every meal, for heaven’s sake. But traditions are important.  They form who we are, part of something bigger than ourselves, perhaps family, but maybe a circle of friends, people with whom we have laughed and cried with, hoped and mourned, hurt and healed with.  Across our Thanksgiving table, we see faces like our own, histories like our own, people who have taught us and picked us up when we didn’t get it and rejoiced with us  when we did.

This morning I read a post on facebook by a missionary friend about missing Thanksgiving, and I fear I was too brusque.  I asked if she was missing the dinner or the giving of thanks, because we give thanks every day.  I was cruel! And I am sorry! I didn’t even think of it at the time…maybe too early in the morning to post.

 Today, I am grateful for those who have answered the call to carry the gospel to people around the world, to people who are celebrating Thanksgiving in another language because God called them to translate the Bible or teach nationals to reach their own or who use medical ministries as a way to show the love of God and reach the lost.  And today I pray that they find joy in the ministry and sense the presence of God loving on them as they honor Him by their service.  I pray that laughter fills their hearts and when the hurt and loneliness threatens an overflow of tears, that they know that’s OK.  Sometimes loving hurts, and sometimes sacrifice hurts, but we have a blessed hope, that God knows our hearts and His love is a healing love, and He will wipe away every tear. And some day, there will be no tears.